


Never Trust His Kind

by lordofcrowns



Category: Final Fantasy XIV, Original Work
Genre: Evil, Gen, Male Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pirates, Short One Shot, Sky Pirates, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24776632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordofcrowns/pseuds/lordofcrowns
Summary: He took the pistol and he shot out all the lights.I started running in the middle of the night.You should never ever trust his kind!
Kudos: 1





	Never Trust His Kind

In the darkness of deep evening, a sky thick with clouds offered no moonlight to brighten the landscape, no stars to guide any traveler.

A small settlement of deserted, ramshackle houses littered the woods, their original inhabitants long gone. Now, at the mercy of the seasons and the native forest that had slowly begun to overgrow and reclaim them, the wooden structures sat abandoned. Unused, save on this one night, when two strangers deigned to meet under the quiet cover of later hours.

One lonely, guttering lantern hung from an exposed nail driven into the rafters above. The warm, flickering light cast unsettling shadows over the Miqo'te’s face, and made it difficult to read the document he’d brought with him.

Both had been honorable, agreeing to leave weapons at the door - or rather just outside the door frame, as the door itself had all but been eaten away by rot and insects. Even now the pirate, with both hands clasped behind his back in a relaxed stance, ran a gloved thumb along the tips of each of his fingers and mentally noted how much he disliked the sensation - or rather lack thereof - of not feeling his whip at his belt.

The pirate in question, garbed in an ensemble of black trimmed with polished gold, seemed to be growing impatient. He stood respectfully at the far side of a table - in truth nothing more than a few planks of wood laid over a pair of similarly sized empty crates - from a nervous merchant. Trembling hands were wrinkling the edges of the parchment as eyes, blurred with tears and straining in the poor light, struggled to read the neat handwriting.

The merchant’s mind raced, reading over the demands laid out on paper and tracing eyes down to the signature, sealed with a calligraphic “S” pressed into red wax.

_“Have you aught to say?”_

The pirate idly paced around the far side of the room, careful not to get too close, lest he spook the individual he intended to so mercifully negotiate with.

The merchant swallowed hard. Was it too late to renegotiate? To implore? Of course it was, what a foolish thought. Was it too late to run? The merchant was a local in the area… they knew the surrounding forest by heart…

_“I asked you a question.”_

The merchant’s gaze snapped up, throat tightening a moment. They realized only now that the pirate had positioned himself to block the path to the door. A window, then, off to their left was now their best option. It was a path that led the merchant away from their sword, which they had so honorably left at the door, but also led away from him, away from this heinous contract they were being forced into. Their eyes flicked over to the window for just one precious moment, but it was enough.

Cyril sighed. He knew the look, had seen the panic when the lantern light caught in their eyes. Their hesitation alone was grounds for his intervention - his persuasion - but now he knew they were inclined to flee.

 _“Tch, how uncouth.”_ The Miqo’te shook his head, clicking his tongue in disapproval while bringing one hand up to his chest. He idly unfastened one of the buttons that held the outer suit-jacket of his uniform together, just enough to reach comfortably into his pocket.

_“You have disrespected my time… and insulted my good nature.”_

“W-wait! I-”

In one swift motion, the slaver pulled a previously concealed pistol and shot out the lantern that hung from the rafters between the two. The shot sent the merchant tumbling backwards with a shrill yell as darkness drenched the pair.

The sound of broken glass clattering to the ground was drowned out entirely by a sinister laugh and a booming voice. It shook the night and froze the heart as gun smoke filled the air.

_“Start running.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 🌹  
>   
>  **[SEE ORIGINAL POST ( with graphics ) HERE](https://lordofcrowns.tumblr.com/post/617506711140515840/never-trust-his-kind-648-words-in-the-darkness)**  
>   
>  **Captain Cyril Stacy© 2016-2020**  
>  **  
> [Tumblr](https://lordofcrowns.tumblr.com) || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cyrilstacy) || [Instagram](https://instagram.com/lord_of_crowns) || [Twitch](https://www.twitch.tv/lord_of_crowns)  
> **


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